


So Very Far Below The Starlight

by Nosferlife



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Plug, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mild CBT, Multi, Nosferatu dick, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 22:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19450444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nosferlife/pseuds/Nosferlife
Summary: LaCroix is desperate for anyone at all to help him.





	So Very Far Below The Starlight

Cold despair gripped at his long-dead heart. Icy darkness clouded LaCroix’s vision as Strauss so effortlessly took control, took his city, his one chance at true power. He had been prepared to do anything to be truly powerful, to have the world of the damned finally respect him. The centuries of always watching his own back, always ready for a stake in his heart, had worn him away until he was unable to think of anything but the sea of twisted smiles and treachery of kindred society. The presence of his Sheriff had helped for a few decades, but he could only do so much to shield his own weakness. And so, to finally end the all-consuming paranoia, he had been ready to do the unthinkable. To devour a soul. 

He had come so close, too – the key to his terrible salvation had literally been within his grasp – but now… He knew he was no match for Strauss, his unwavering resolve, his whole Chantry of allies who would fight and die for him. LaCroix had none of that, and now without even his Sheriff, he was utterly defenceless. All he could do was wait for Strauss to sentence him to death, to end his pathetic existence for his crimes against the Camarilla. 

But the searing bolt of Thaumaturgy never came. Strauss stripped him of his title – his decades of painstaking planning, plotting and backstabbing – took the sarcophagus, and simply left. The penthouse office suddenly felt so very empty, and LaCroix – just plain Sebastian now, with no title, nothing – realised sharply that this was the first time he had ever been alone in this room. His Sheriff had always been at his side, a comforting presence and his most powerful weapon. Without him, he’d be dead in a week. Becoming Prince of a previously Anarch city had made him a lot of enemies, and with his attempted diablerie exposed, even the city’s Camarilla would bay for his blood. Nowhere was safe, and his office would be the first place to look for anyone hunting down the disgraced former Prince.

Sebastian sank to the floor, hands just beginning to tremor, left feeling empty. Two hundred years, for nothing, to meet his final death at the hands of whatever neonate found him first.

‘LaCroix?’ A voice - not Nines, not Strauss, but a voice he did distantly recognise…

‘Tung?’ he whipped around, trying to look more composed than he felt, to find his office still appeared empty. Damned Nosferatu. He tried to resist the urge to take a breath, but his chest heaved, rapid breaths audible in the cavernous room. Pathetic.

The Nosferatu shimmered out of the shadows, lopsided features and old jacket a sharp contrast to his plush velvet décor. ‘So I heard you’re in a tough spot here, LaCroix, but I don’t want to see you get staked. I’ll give you a way out, if you’re interested’

LaCroix froze. He’d accepted that his death was fast approaching, but now – was there truly any hope? He felt his long-atrophied heart lurch – stupid, weak, imagining things like a lowly Kine – and tried desperately not to show his roiling emotions, his fear and desperation, on his face. He could still try to cling to this one last shred of dignity, at least. ‘Why would you help me? Obviously I am no longer Prince-‘ he could almost feel blood rise in his throat at the admission ‘-so I cannot offer you political power. What do you want with me?’

Tung had an odd look in his marred eyes. Was he ashamed? Guilty? He couldn’t tell anymore. ‘I…uh…so it’s just a small favour I’m doing you, I mean - I just think you shouldn’t be executed, it’s – it’s really Gary who wants you. And when I say that I mean he… wants you. In exchange for protection underground.’

LaCroix was stunned. Gary was simply propositioning him? He couldn’t – he couldn’t – but it was this, or a very painful death. He’d be endlessly humiliated either way, maybe there’d be a chance to start again, go back to France, anywhere – But he couldn’t actually accept. This was a Nosferatu, his previous underling, a sewer-dwelling monstrosity, but could he really decline? There were no more options, and no more time. It’s this or final death, he told himself. This is simply self-preservation. He couldn’t meet Tung’s eyes.

‘I’ll do it.’

LaCroix shuddered at the sight of the sewer hatch, but as he watched Tung effortlessly slide into the depths of the city, he felt bolder. He could survive this. He would rise to power again, even if it meant braving the sewers, and what waited within.

He tried to ignore the dirty water soaking through his socks as he followed Tung, who didn’t turn to look at him, as the Nosferatu began, ‘I… I don’t want to make this sound like it’s a good deal you’re getting. You can back out, I can take you to the surface. Gary’s a good guy, but to get him to shelter you he’s… he’s going to want a lot. From you. I mean – just be prepared.’ He trailed off, the air filled with only the sound of dripping water and the distant scurrying of rats as they walked further and further from everything he had ever known.  
As the heavy vault door to the warrens slammed shut behind him, the enormity of the situation suddenly caught up to him. He’d never been so completely at another’s mercy. What would Gary want? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d sucked dick for his own gain rather than simple enjoyment, but this was different. A Nosferatu, admittedly a reasonably handsome one… A price he would have to pay for the remainder of his unlife. 

Gary’s office was a cruelly corrupted mirror of his own haven, a nightmarish approximation of the opulence he was used to. Tung turned to leave and before he could stop himself he glanced up at the slightly taller vampire. His face must have betrayed his fear because Tung hesitated, then stayed next to him as Gary’s unmistakable chuckle filled the room.

‘Well, well, well, Boss… I didn’t think you’d actually fallen far enough to take me up on my offer,’ LaCroix bristled at his mocking tone, only hours ago he had been his boss, ‘so here’s the deal. You do what I say, I do what I want, and I give you protection in secret. You leave whenever you want, we’ll even take you to the surface. We’ll even let your ghoul down, not all the way into the warrens of course, but you can still feed whenever you like, I’m sure you’d rather not share the local rats,’ he added with a wheezy laugh. ‘So what’s your answer, Boss?’  
He took a deep breath. ‘What do I have to do?’

‘Oh, you’re going to love this, Boss… Strip for me.’

As his hands slowly went to start undoing his coat buttons, he felt as though thousands of eyes were on him, making his heightened instincts scream at him to stop. The realisation that any number of Nosferatu could be in the room, invisible, hit him like ice water. Gary finally took pity on him and showed himself, sitting with his chair pushed away from the head of the ornate dining table.

‘Well what are you waiting for, Boss?’ he smirked, ‘come over here and convince me to let you stay.’

As he stiffly walked over he laid his coat on the table, feeling naked already without its familiar weight. He could almost swear he heard a rustling of fabric as unseen Nosferatu moved aside to let him pass, but he quickly pushed the thought away. He stood as gracefully as he could between the Primogen and the table, wondering exactly how much of a show to put on as he loosened his tie. Settling on confident and unhurried, but not at all showy, he met Gary’s eyes as he began to unbutton his shirt. The sharp slice of skin he revealed glowed ghostly white in the room’s dim lighting, and Gary’s lips twitched in the slightest hint of approval as he let his shirt slide down onto the table behind him, and he was grateful not for the first time that he had been embraced after the restricted rations and physical exercise of Napoleon’s army. He was lithe and elegant, everything the Nosferatu were not.

Gary reached out one clawed hand to trace over his ribs, down his well defined stomach to rest on his sharp hipbone, and he almost completely fought off the urge to cringe away from the Nosferatu’s clammy touch. His hands – rough skin, sharpened claws for nails – felt almost like his Sheriff- no, like his Sheriff’s used to be, but now were ash. He shuddered, hesitating at the clasp of his suit trousers. ‘Looks like someone’s shy… don’t worry Boss, we already know what a whore you really are.’ Gary bared his razor teeth in a feral grin, clearly enjoying himself already, and dug his claws into the soft skin under his hands. He shot him an angry glare, defiance flaring even as he burned with humiliation. Of course the Nosferatu Primogen would know that he had used more than just charisma and backstabbing to cling to power. He quickly removed his remaining clothes and stood, leaning slightly against the table. 

Gary sat back in his chair as LaCroix met his gaze as coolly as he could. ‘Come on, Boss, you can do better than that, I’m insulted.’ LaCroix had hoped to put this off for a while longer at least, but Gary’s meaning was clear. LaCroix leant further back against the table and willed vitae to fill his flaccid cock. He forced a delicate blush onto his high cheekbones and even used a hint of presence to make himself look more appealing. He may as well do this properly, at least, and keeping the Nosferatu's thoughts as hazy as possible would certainly help his own nerves. Under Gary’s gaze his cock hardened quickly, and LaCroix was forced to admit to himself that he liked this, the humiliation of it. He looked up at Gary through his eyelashes, confident in the alluring image he painted.

‘Touch yourself.’ 

He wrapped his hand around his dick, almost certain he managed to hide the slight tremor in his hand, and started stroking, intentionally lazy in his movement. He wasn’t huge, but very pretty, if he did say so himself. Perfectly proportioned and nicely blushed now that he was fully aroused - Gary certainly seemed to think so, as he watched intently, trying to look more indifferent than he truly was. He tried to ignore how the burning humiliation only made him harder and focused on the performance of it, leaning one hand behind him onto the table and giving the Nosferatu a glimpse of his hole as he shifted his legs further apart. 

‘Eager slut.’ Gary growled, and he froze for a split second as he felt his dick twitch and he gasped almost imperceptibly. Gary noticed. Of course he noticed. ‘Oh my, Boss, I never thought you’d enjoy this quite so much. Who’d have guessed the Prince would get off on being called a dirty whore by a monster. All those high and mighty speeches, but all you needed was to be told you’re only good for whoring yourself out, the needy bitch you are. Pathetic.’ Each word sent a fresh stab of pleasure through his guts and he couldn’t help but speed up the hand around his cock in response. 

Gary laughed, and produced lube from... somewhere, handing it over. LaCroix refused to meet his gaze as he took it, holding back a whine as he let go of his cock to spread lube on his fingers. He looked down to between Gary’s legs trying to gauge how much preparation he’d need, and was shocked at his size. It was hard to tell from the angle and shadows, but this would need a while to get ready for. He looked back to Gary’s face as the Nosferatu flashed his sharp teeth in a lopsided grin and shifted to give him a better view as he started palming himself through his trousers. 

LaCroix slowly thrust two fingers into himself, enjoying the stretch as he fell in time with Gary. He quickly added a third finger, not sure how long he’d be given to prepare, and felt so incredibly naked, exposed and vulnerable in front of the vampire who could so easily kill him. ‘What an eager slut for me, so sloppy and loose already. So needy for a good hard fuck, but do you even deserve my cock?’

‘Please!’ He whined, immediately regretting the momentary slip in his collected façade. He was already making this even harder for himself than it had to be. He had to stay in control. Gary gestured him closer, and he stood between the Nosferatu’s legs. He’d hoped to have time to work up to a fourth finger before this, but he could manage. He’d taken bigger before, though not by much. 

Gary’s hands explored the contours of his elegantly muscled chest, allowing his claws to scrape over his nipples. He arched his back slightly, involuntarily, and added a gasp just slightly too theatrical for Gary to believe, to try and hide just how much he suddenly wanted this. He couldn’t tell if the other kindred had fallen for it, his face suddenly unreadable. He traced his calloused hands downward, then up his inner thighs to fondle his balls, too rough yet exactly what he wanted. It was terrifying, how easily the younger vampire could read him, but perhaps a career as an actor could be to blame - as difficult as it was to believe now that the monster before him had ever been considered suitable for film.

The pad of one gnarled finger rubbed over his entrance and he shuddered at the sensation. The sharp claws now threatening to push inside him made his whole body tense in anticipation of the terrible pain which could so easily be inflicted upon him, and Gary chuckled darkly and withdrew his hand. His touch returned a moment later, now slick and – not his fingers. Blunt, smooth, clearly a toy. A plug. A big one, too, by the feel of it, and not being able to see it at all as Gary slowly started to press it inside sent a thrill through him, the blunt tip stretching him but not yet sliding home. Gary teased him with it, thrusting it slowly almost to the widest point where the stretch gave a sweet burn as he struggled to accommodate it, the anticipation setting him on a knife edge. A small, breathy moan escaped him, and he finally forced it in, twisting it harshly to accentuate the burn before grinding it deeply into him. The sensations were so much, so perfect, he couldn’t help but gasp and then moan deep from his chest, the sounds loud in the quiet of the room.

The Primogen unzipped his trousers and fisted his own cock, leaving LaCroix feeling suddenly even more naked without any touch upon his skin. Gary takes a fistful of his golden hair and harshly guided him down to his leaking cock. It was big, like he thought, and even more brutish than he’d anticipated, harsh curve, swollen head and a dark greenish-grey colour, fading to purple at the tip. Precome was beading at the slit, threatening to slide down onto his suit, and LaCroix caught it on his tongue before it stained the fabric, immediately regretting giving him that courtesy. The familiar acrid taste anchored him as he slipped into the hazy focus he would need to take something so monstrous. Everything blurred slightly around him as he focused entirely on licking down the underside of his shaft, sliding his tongue with open-mouthed, filthy kisses down his length. He used the time to gauge the thickness, and took a breath he didn’t need before returning to the tip, and slowly allowing the brutish cock to fill his mouth. He took his time, and Gary allowed him to, as he followed the ridges on the underside with his tongue, putting his experience to use and listening for any indication of what the Nosferatu enjoyed. He dimly heard Gary mocking him again, praise undercut with scorn at how easy he is, but the words themselves are already distant. He thought he heard the word ‘whore’, and moaned in response. 

The plug started vibrating, making him jump and almost choke in his surprise. Trust the tech-obsessed Nosferatu to have such things at their disposal. The plug was big enough that it is constantly pressed against him perfectly, bringing him close to the edge already. Gary suddenly used his grip on his hair to pull him down his cock, the blunt head pressing harshly into his throat as he struggled to relax fast enough. He slid in halfway – was that really only halfway? – and then allows him to come almost all the way back off, taking ragged gasps of breath which did nothing but make him look even more pathetic. He was glad of it, mostly – he loved the power a man could have over him, to stop him from breathing, and although he couldn’t lose consciousness from it now, the rising reflexive panic still set his cock throbbing with need. He was wrenched down again, further this time, and he managed to open his throat more smoothly this time. He was suddenly very glad that the Nosferatu’s baldness appeared to extend to his lack of pubes as his nose touched roughened skin that was certainly not quite as recently washed as he would have liked. The younger vampire held him there, as he fought the instinct to struggle and relaxed his throat further and counted seconds. Had he still been alive, his vision would perhaps be turning dark by now, but instead he just felt everything as muted and strangely comforting. Maybe Gary was right- maybe this is what he was good for, the thought stinging before he could force it away by focusing on his task. 

He looked up at Gary, and the vibrations from the plug jumped up in intensity, making his eyes slide shut as he tried to moan around his cock. He started a punishing rhythm, abusing his throat, and it was all he could do to keep his teeth from catching. He settled further into submission, his awareness of his own dignity slipping quickly away. He moaned until he ran out of breath, and then when his lungs emptied, he fell silent.

Suddenly Gary pulled him away, and brought both of them to stand up. LaCroix faltered, and Gary supported his weight, manhandling him to lie across the end of the table, propped up on his shaky elbows. Rough hands ran over his chest, and, spurred on by the pulsing vibrations in his ass, he arched into the touch, presenting his cock, wordlessly asking the Nosferatu not to leave him desperate much longer. He trailed his claws down, sharp points not quite breaking the skin as he dragged them over his stomach. He grazed them over the underside of his cock, now angry red from being neglected for so long, and LaCroix hissed at the intense sensation, almost too painful to bear but somehow still good. As Gary pulled on the plug still inside him, two more hands reached down to caress his chest, but as he looked down he could not see them. Some other Nosferatu was here, has been watching all this time – one hand rested across his throat, squeezing gently, and his train of thought slipped away. He looked up as the other Nosferatu became visible, and froze. 

The fledgling.

The one kindred in the city who probably wanted him dead the most, the one he betrayed the most deeply.

He tried to sit up, to escape, but Gary’s claws slid harder up his dick to the underside of the head, pinning him in place, leaving him gasping, needle points digging into his most sensitive flesh. 

‘Don’t you think you owe our good friend some fun too, Boss? I don’t mind sharing,’ Gary punctuated his question by running his claws back down his cock, and he ran through the situation in his fuzzy mind. If the younger Nosferatu would forgive him, this would definitely be worth it, and how much more dignity did he have to lose anyway? He forced himself to lie back onto the table as Gary took the plug out, tossing it onto the table, and rubbed the huge, slicked head of his dick over his loosened hole. The fledgling held him in place by the hand on his throat, and leaned down to kiss him as Gary slowly started to push inside. The stretch was huge, and tears sprang to his eyes. The younger Nosferatu muffled his high whine as his hands scraped over the table, searching for purchase, and the fledgling took hold of his wrists, anchoring him firmly in place. His long, pointed tongue slid into his mouth, slimy and dead, feeling more like a tentacle than anything human, giving him a welcome distraction as Gary slid further and further into him in several harsh shoves. Gary’s hands pinned his thighs apart as he finally bottomed out, pressed against him. As he built up a rhythm, slowly at first, the other Nosferatu guided his head back, off the edge of the table, to his waiting dick. He moved closer, and LaCroix's lips parted as he took in the sight of the fully hard dick in front of him glinting with metal. A thick prince albert, an ampallang and an impressive ladder, too, all combined to make a striking image. He almost eagerly opened his mouth to accept it, running his tongue over the balls of the ampallang barbell and gently moving the heavy ring through the tip of his cock before once again his control was wrested away and the artificially heavy cock was pushed down his throat. 

Gary’s hands gripped his hipbones with crushing force as he slammed their bodies together. His sharply curved dick was perfect, striking him perfectly on every thrust, his own cock bouncing against his stomach and leaving trails of precome. He was so close now, so close – Gary twisted his balls sharply, keeping his orgasm out of reach and forcing a ragged cry from him, muffled by the fledgling who pinned his wrists again, pressing them hard into the table as he fucked his throat. He whined, high and needy between the fledgling’s thrusts, desperate to come, and the fledgling squeezed his hand around his throat once more, feeling his own dick sliding under the skin, pressing around the thick bulge it made in his throat. His hips snapped forward, erratic and uncoordinated, and he pulled out to finish over LaCroix’s chest, thick rivulets running down his ribs and onto his shallow abdominals. Gary finally released him, and he practically screamed as he came hard, vision blurring as he twitched uncontrollably. When his awareness came back, Gary was still thrusting powerfully, the table rocking with his movement, LaCroix now so sensitive and raw, yet each thrust forced more shuddering pleasure from him. He groaned at the feeling, and with two more thrusts Gary came, spilling deep inside him and slowing as he rode out his own orgasm. He pulled out, come dripping out of his abused hole and down his shaking thighs.

He cracked a nasty, lopsided grin. ‘Good. That should buy your protection for tomorrow night. See you then, Boss.’ And with that, the two Nosferatu left, followed by several too many sets of footsteps for only two kindred. Just how many had been watching? He had no idea, lying spent and boneless over the table, covered and filled with come, unable to even gather the will to move yet. He groaned softly in the empty room.

Not quite empty, he realised, as Tung appeared, and he realised with dim horror he couldn’t possibly resist him if he wanted to fuck him as well. After all, he’d just saved his life – he would want a reward, surely? But he only withdrew some rags – surprisingly clean – from inside his coat, and began slowly and gently cleaning the drying come off him. He must have made quite a sight, from the amount that came off on the rags, and it had even gone in his hair, somehow. He shut his eyes, strangely relaxed, and weakly took a rag to clean his more intimate areas himself. Tung helped him dress, gathering his clothes from where they had become oddly scattered. ‘LaCroix? Did you, ah… swallow anything?’ He managed to shake his head, grateful that he wouldn’t have to vomit vampire seed back up. Tung reached inside his coat again, this time withdrawing a blood pack. ‘Don’t thank me, I took this from your office before we left.’ He drank the whole thing, and quickly felt considerably better. He gave Tung the most heartfelt thanks he had given in decades.

He wondered where he'd go when he left the warren, and how he'd escape the city alive. But he knew deep down, one night he would see the stars again.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I actually wrote this haha  
> It's my first fic ever so please be nice lol I tried
> 
> I'm not sure what I want to write next, so if there's a pairing you want tell me and I might do it, I know my writing isn't the best but there's so few people writing about bloodlines at all!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :)


End file.
